


closer

by Anonymous



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Beta Read, im sorry cause there's mistakes and english failed me again, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 20:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Wonwoo nuzzles against his shoulder briefly, before taking a swig from Soonyoung’s glass.“With me?” He asks, hopeful, beaming when Soonyoung lifts a hand to thumb at his jaw.Soonyoung would be an absolute fool to marry anyone else, and he stifles a chuckle at the suggestion.“Who else would I want to marry, Won?”





	closer

**Author's Note:**

> title: [closer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xigBn1f98n8)
> 
> not my best fic by any means but still one of my favorites

Wonwoo’s proportions are unnervingly perfect.

Thin, broad shoulders, a tastefully tapered waist, firm hips — Soonyoung’s unsure if he’s insecure or merely startlingly in love as his fingers trace over softly defined pectorals.

“You’re supposed to be helping me put on my suit, not take it off.” There’s a tender tug on his wrist, full lips mouthing gently at his skin before nipping lightly at his palm.

Soonyoung frowns, teasing, “why can’t I do both?”

Wonwoo laughs, kissing sweetly at his lips before he hurries to adjust his clothes and slip into his tuxedo.

—

Soonyoung’s known Wonwoo since childhood, when they’d merely been neighbors coerced into interaction due to their parents’ friendship.

Wonwoo was talkative in their youth, Soonyoung recalls; lively and sociable in his rambunctiousness. He was vivacious in Soonyoung’s presence especially, and Soonyoung found himself smitten by the time they’d advanced into adolescence.

At school, Wonwoo’s chatty nature wasn’t regularly displayed beyond the confines of their friendship, and his contrasting stoicism served to increase his attractiveness to their peers. To Soonyoung, however, it was the honesty shared between them that fueled his interest.

While Wonwoo busied himself with short, temporary relationships, Soonyoung remained focused solely on him.

—

“Do you want a drink?”

Wonwoo hums in agreement, nestling comfortingly against Soonyoung’s side.

Before them, their mutual friend Seungkwan sways jovially against his bride in some semblance of a waltz.

For a groom, Seungkwan was never much of a bachelor in the first place.

Soonyoung recalls the beginnings of the other’s relationship: the severity of Seungkwan’s devotion and loyalty, and the distaste that bloomed at even the slightest distance between him and his bride-to-be. Seungkwan’s too austere, Soonyoung thinks, and perhaps it's fitting that he’s the first to tie the knot out of their friends.

One of the waiters that flings by, dressed to the nines in soft hues of pale pink and navy, deposits an icy beer into his clammy hands.

Soonyoung presses the frosted glass against Wonwoo’s face for a moment to ease the heat, smiling at the content sigh that leaves the other’s lips.

“Do you really want this? One day?”

Soonyoung shrugs at the inquiry, playing nonchalant.

He’s unsure if Wonwoo’s question is serious, considering they’ve both spoken about the topic at length in the past.

While Soonyoung’s a man of tradition and clings to the idea of marriage, Wonwoo’s disillusioned with the whole affair. “I don’t have to marry you to know I’m going to be with you forever,” he’d claimed once, tone curt before he’d placed an amusingly benign kiss against his lips.

“I do,” Soonyoung stares at the fond grin unfurling on Seungkwan’s lips with jealousy as he embraces his wife with loving hands.

Wonwoo nuzzles against his shoulder briefly, before taking a swig from Soonyoung’s glass.

“With me?” He asks, hopeful, beaming when Soonyoung lifts a hand to thumb at his jaw.

Soonyoung would be an absolute fool to marry anyone else, and he stifles a chuckle at the suggestion.

“Who else would I want to marry, Won?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance, before he latches onto his hands and intertwines their fingers.

—

To their mutual befuddlement, Soonyoung wasn’t the first to confess.

—

“I think I like you.”

Soonyoung takes a few hasty gulps of his drink, the sweet tang of his milkshake rough against the furious knot lodged in his throat.

“You think?” Soonyoung asks, harsh, “you think you like me? Think?”

Wonwoo frowns at the grating rumble of his words, closing in on himself.

By this point — after a plethora of failed confessions and not-so-subtle hints towards his feelings — Soonyoung had resigned himself to the fact that he was meant to be Wonwoo’s best friend and not his boyfriend. Soonyoung was comfortable with rejection and was even preparing to finally move on after a painful decade of pining.

But of course, Wonwoo had to voice his feelings — right when Soonyoung was ready to overcome his own.

“I have liked you since we were children, Wonwoo Jeon.”

The other bristles at the mention of his full name, a weighty scowl prominent on his lips.

“Should I have phrased it better then?” Wonwoo snaps, irritation heavy in his tone. “I fucking like you, Soonyoung Kwon. I have liked you for years.”

—

“Your hands are cold,” Wonwoo whines, trembling at the brush of Soonyoung’s hands against his waist.

Soonyoung undresses him slowly, tenderly tracing the moles spattered across his body with his lips as if they’re a cluster of stars scrawled onto his skin.

There’s a buzz to their actions, a haziness that derives both from the copious amount of alcohol in their systems and the flurry of excitement left from the wedding.

“Want to warm me up?” Soonyoung teases, once he’s divested them of their clothes and they’re nestled comfortingly into their sheets.

Wonwoo’s resulting laugh is bright, heightened by his intoxication. He huddles easily into Soonyoung’s side, latching onto his fingers and peppering a few warm kisses onto his palm.

“I wasn’t kidding by the way,” Wonwoo begins, later, when they’re both teetering on the edge of slumber.

Soonyoung hums in curiosity, mouthing lazily at his neck. He’s steadily dozing off, and can barely recall what Wonwoo’s referring to. Though, he can easily hazard a guess.

There are not many topics they argue about at this point in their relationship, aside from marriage and starting a family.

Where Soonyoung is traditional with marriage, Wonwoo is traditional with children. He longs for the cliché: a comfortable house in the suburbs coupled alongside two happy children, and a family pet.

Soonyoung prefers one child at most, along with a cozy apartment in the city.

“You weren’t?” He groggily responds, exhaustion blatant in his words.

Wonwoo is sturdy beside him, familiar and warm.

“I want to marry you,” Wonwoo admits, cushioning him in his heady embrace. “I want us to get married, once we’re both ready.”

Soonyoung hums briefly in happiness, before nodding in acknowledgment.

“Soon,” he complies with a patient smile, intertwining their fingers.

—

“You’re going to freeze out there.”

Wonwoo glares at him defiantly through the fog clouding his glasses, his lips bitten red and chapped from the harsh cold.

Soonyoung stares at him in disbelief; astounded not only at his defiance but at the pronounced shivers raking through his scrawny form.

“Come inside, you’re going to freeze out there,” he reiterates, with a worried scowl.

He feels pity, almost, before he recalls Wonwoo’s distance and the pain that tainted his confession.

If he hadn’t agitated him, perhaps they’d both currently be cuddled together and sharing heat. Instead, Wonwoo’s anger has cultivated into him willingly risking hypothermia out of his arrogance.

“It’s not like you’d care,” he spits, when Soonyoung opens the door and begins to usher him inside. “You didn’t even believe me when I told you I liked you!”

Soonyoung tugs softly at his coat, stripping him of his sodden clothes and tucking him into thick, wool-like fabrics.

Wonwoo continues to fume at him while he works, though his previous anger has begun to taper off into an exasperated fondness.

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung murmurs, as he cleans the other’s glasses with a delicate touch.

“I thought you were playing with me,” he admits, “I thought it was all a joke. I’m sorry, Wonwoo.”

He tucks them into a thick blanket as he speaks, nuzzling against Wonwoo’s neck for warmth.

“It’s not your fault, don’t apologize,” Wonwoo hastily counters, shyly shifting to hold his hand beneath the covers. “I was angry, I’m sorry.”

He should be saying the same to him, and he informs him of such, only to be given an apologetically chaste kiss in return.

 


End file.
